


Real Life

by GayMarauders



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, M/M, technically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-30
Updated: 2015-04-30
Packaged: 2018-03-26 10:57:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3848386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GayMarauders/pseuds/GayMarauders
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wolfstar's final days</p>
            </blockquote>





	Real Life

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: "things you said that made me feel like shit" (from queermarauders on Tumblr)

“Hey, love, back so soon?” Remus felt an arm snake around his waist as Sirius pressed a kiss into his hair. He sighed contentedly and let the tension flow from his body, leaning back against Sirius a bit as he pulled off his gloves.

“My mission was over more quickly than I thought…is that soup I smell?” he asked, sniffing the air. Sirius grinned at the undeniably canine gesture and hummed his confirmation, resting his chin on Remus’s shoulder.

“I thought you might want something warm to eat after being out in the snow all day. It should be ready by now; why don’t you take the rest of your things off and I’ll get you a bowl?” Sirius pulled away, leaving Remus a little colder. 

“I would have thought you’d want to help me with that?” Remus raised an eyebrow suggestively and Sirius laughed. 

“A tempting offer, I’ll admit…but eat first. You’ve lost weight since the last moon, and Molly will kill me if she has to take in your clothes again,” he said lightly. Only his eyes betrayed the concern he felt over Remus’s health, a taboo topic in the Black-Lupin-Pettigrew household. Remus sighed in assent and reached up to unzip his Anorak. Giving him one last, lingering look, Sirius turned and entered the kitchen, moving out of view.

Once Remus had shed his outer layer, he padded through the doorway to the kitchen. His thick socks silenced the sound of his footfalls, so Sirius failed to notice that he was no longer alone. Unfortunately this meant that Remus was treated to a rather explicit rant aimed at the tomato soup that was currently burning on the stove.

“Fuck–bloody muggle contraption, bloody electricity, bloody everything– _stop burning–_ stop– _stoppus burnicus_ –shite, that shouldn’t have done that, that’s not even a real spell–where the  _fuck_ is all this smoke coming from? MOONY COME QUICK–”

“I’m right here, Pads, get out of the way–”

“MERLIN’S PANTS MOONY WHERE DID YOU COME FROM?”

“I just came in, now please– _ardens prohibe.”_ Moony cast the spell with a tired sigh, and the billowing smoke dissipated considerably.

“Oh. Thanks,” Sirius said sheepishly.

“Sirius, what happened? I thought we’d gone over this. You put the stove on medium heat, and you don’t leave it unattended,” Remus said, the patience in his voice a bit thin. 

“I’m sorry, love. It’s hard to learn all this muggle tech. No harm done, though, right?” Sirius smiled and reached out to brush a stray lock of reddish-brown hair behind his partner’s ear. At that exact moment, Remus looked over at the steaming mess on the stove and let out a groan.

“No, Sirius, there  _was_ harm done–look at this! You’ve ruined our only good pot. What are we supposed to do now?” Sirius frowned at Remus’s accusatory tone.

“We can just buy a new one, Rem. It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?! Maybe it isn’t, or it wasn’t, for you–but I can’t  _afford_ to buy a decent pot, Sirius. I couldn’t afford  _this_ one, or the one before it. Maybe if we both had paying jobs, but–”

“You  _know_ I don’t have time for that, Moony! Dumbledore’s got me working overtime as it is…”

“…Which is why we can’t afford your carelessness, Sirius! I know you’re used to having some house elf following you around and cleaning up your messes, but  _some_ of us understand that you have to grow up. Real life doesn’t have house elves, and a Black Family weekly allowance, and a spell to fix every possible mistake. Maybe if you weren’t such a spoiled brat–”

The look on Sirius’s face told Remus that he had gone too far the minute he said it, but it was too late. The dark-haired wizard opened his mouth, snapped it shut, then left the room. Remus stood frozen in the middle of the kitchen, smoke still billowing around him, until he heard the door slam shut a minute later.

“ _I’m sorry,”_ he whispered helplessly.

* * *

Two days later, Remus walked into the kitchen once again. He couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten–it must have been before he and Sirius had their fight. He opened the cabinet where the pot had been stored out of sheer force of habit before he remembered there was nothing there anymore.

However, on the shelf where the old, dented pot had once lived, there sat a shiny new crockpot, a gigantic orange bow stuck to the lid. A paper from Remus’s tear-off calendar was attached with spello-tape. Carefully, he pulled it off and examined the message.

_R–_

_Sorry about the pot. I should have been more careful. The Muggle down at the pawn shop said this was worth my guitar…maybe you can show me how to use it?_

_–S_

Flipping the paper over, Remus saw that the date was October 30th. 

“Well, I’ll say this for you…you really did keep up the act until the very end, didn’t you, Black?” Remus said to the empty apartment. He left the note on the counter and headed for the door; somehow he didn’t feel like making soup.


End file.
